Changing Religion -- Questions

Sermon for North Hill Adventist Fellowship

August 25, 2012

In two recent sermons, I examined religion spirituality through a modern parable. My parable was inspired by Jesus' parable of wine and wine skins. Jesus compared the vital new spirituality of his disciples to new wine. He compared the long-established traditions of the Jewish religion to old and brittle wine skins. If you tried to contain new wine in old wine skins you risked losing the wine and ruining the skins. New wine must be put into new wine skins.

Given my lack of direct experience of of wine and wineskins I talked instead about berries and buckets. When we go up in the mountains to pick huckleberries or out to some local bramble to pick blackberries we need an appropriate container. The container is obviously not the point of our picking. But it is indispensable.

Spirituality—our sense of connection with God—is the point of religion. But the forms of religion—ways of praying and worshiping, ideas about God and the nature of the universe, i.e. theology, rules for living—these things are indispensable in passing spirituality from one generation to another. They are the bucket for the berries of spirituality. As important as the forms of religion are, they are subject to change. I argued, in fact, they must change if the religion is going to stay alive.

A fossil religion—a religion that is unchanged over time, a religion that preserves unchanged the traditions of long-past ages—is a fossil religion, better suited for the museum than the real world we live in.

In response to these sermons some of you texted insightful questions. We didn't get your questions up on the screen last week, so today, I want to address those questions.

Question Number One:

The concept that God never changes is often considered a comfort to many Christians. (The text that comes to mind is “I am God and I change not” Malachi 3:6.) But is it true? Is God unchangeable? How do we deal with stability in our ever changing world if even God changes?

Does God change? Let's look at a couple of pairs of Bible passages:

I am the Lord, I do not change. Malachi 3:6

The LORD was sorry he had ever made Saul king of Israel. 1 Samuel 15:35

Saying God was “sorry” clearly implies some change of mind. God made Saul king hoping for great things. When Saul screwed up God was deeply wounded. God was sorry—sorry Saul had not lived up to God's hopes, sorry that the people of Israel were damaged by Saul's failures, because when leaders fail they hurt more people than just themselves.

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Hebrews 13:8

Even though Jesus was God's Son, he learned obedience from the things he suffered.

In this way, God qualified him as a perfect High Priest, and he became the source of eternal salvation for all those who obey him. Hebrews 5:8-9

When you learn you change. You can learn to respond to your children without yelling at them. In fact, you can learn to respond to them without getting angry. When you move from reacting loudly or angrily to your children to responding graciously, calmly you have changed. Learning is changed. Hebrews says Jesus learned through his suffering. It says he became qualified. At one time he was not qualified. Then he became qualified. That is a kind of change. It's good change.

These statements are not contradictory if you accept them as more like poetry than math. 2 + 2 = 4 and 2 + 2 = 8 are flatly contradictory.

“I will never forget you.” and “I can't remember your name.” may not be contradictory. One is talking about the fire in my heart. The other is talking about the function of the cognitive part of my brain. When both are true, the poor guy talking to the beautiful woman is dying of embarrassment and anxiety. He's desperately hoping her name will come to him. Maybe someone else will say it.

Similarly, for some people, “I love you” and “I hate you” are related rather than flatly contradictory statements. The reason for their “hate” is, in fact, their all-consuming love. It is the failure of the beloved to respond with affection and faithfulness that spurs the negative passion of hate. And, if the beloved offers the least hint of relenting in their rejection the lover immediately forgets all of the “hate” and flings themselves back into the passion of love.

The Bible's declarations about God's changelessness are focused on God's passionate engagement with humanity. God loves us so much he would rather die than live without us. His love is relentless, resourceful, stubborn.

The Bible's statements about changes in God reflect the reality that God is in a genuine relationship. When humans spurn God, it riles him. When humans damage other humans, God reacts with the passion of a partisan parent or, in some Bible images, with the passion of a jealous, proud lover.

God is not changeless in the sense of math and logic. He is changeless as a lover, a parent, a friend is changeless. You can count on God. But God is not in a box whose lid we control. God is not a vending machine whose buttons are under the control of our fingers.

The point of religion is to connect God and people. As human culture changes, we should expect religion to change. The forms and practices that nurture our spirituality, our relationship with God, will change. All living human relationships change over time as the individuals change. So the external forms of religion will change. This change is actually predicted by God's “changelessness.” If God loves modern Americans as much as he loved ancient Hebrews, we would expect him to love us in ways that are appropriate to who we are. We would not expect him to require us to become masters of ancient Hebrew culture before he is willing to condescend to interact with us.

If God's love is personal and not merely a “force” or a philosophical construct, then that love will be expressed and cultivated in ways that are distinctive in every culture and every age. We would not imagine that the perfect expression of God's love or the perfect human response was something frozen in time 3000 or 2000 or 168 years ago.

Question Number Two.

Why is prophecy in the Bible?

You may remember that one of the changes I called for in Adventist religion is our use of prophecy. For far too many of us, our focus on prophecy has made us fear mongers. We seldom forward emails that celebrate good news. For example, I have never received an email from an Adventist that mentioned the steady decline in the rate of violent crime in the United States over the past ten years. On the other hand I receive email forwards and facebook posts featuring news of domestic violence as a supposed sign of the end. I have seen official evangelistic productions that featured dramatic portrayals of headlines about violent crime again as supposed signs of the end of time. Logically, if violence is proof that we are nearing the end, then the steady decline in violence would be evidence that the end is receding.

Here is the truth: Around the world, famines kill fewer people now than they did 75 years ago. Wars are less deadly and less frequent now than they were during all of the last century. In spite of the terrible headlines detailing specific killings of policemen, the rate of deadly violence against policemen in the United States is less now than it was 50 or 100 years ago.

Of course, I'm not suggesting that everything is sunshine and roses. But there is much good news. Sadly, many Christians can't see the good news because their understanding of prophecy makes them oblivious to it. They fail to thank God for these improvements in the world. This is a misuse of prophecy.

Which brings us to the question: Why is prophecy in the Bible?

I would answer there are two major blessings that flow from a proper reading of prophecy in the Bible:

First, prophecy assures us that God is looking ahead. And the future is in his hands. Not the devil nor the Illumati nor jihadists nor randomness has the last word. God does.

Back when George W Bush was president, my liberal friends thought he was going to lead America into the Mark of the Beast. I even heard a prophet announce that. It didn't happen. Bush-Cheney were not in charge of the universe.

Now, my conservative friends warn me that President Obama is plotting to institute sharia law or surrender the sovereignty of the United States to the United Nations. That's not going to happen either. Obama does not run the universe.

Presidents do make consequential decisions. Policies matter especially over the long haul. We are responsible as citizens to seek to make informed decisions when it comes time to vote. We can donate money and write letters to seek to influence policy. But when you begin hyperventilating because of what's happening in the political realm, remember the grand truth of prophecy: Nothing will happen for which God is not prepared.

Prophecy teaches us not to freak us out at the impending danger. It reassures us that no matter what happens, God wins. And we win. We are his children, so don't freak out. Freaking out is a denial of the central truth of prophecy. Freaking out is a contradiction of the steady refrain of Jesus teaching which had at its center this command: Do not be afraid.

Second, prophecy highlights spiritual principles that offer us wisdom for life. Historically, Adventists have applied the message of Revelation 13 to the Roman Catholic hierarchy. The focus of that chapter is the use of force to compel people to worship in a particular way. The Catholic Church has certainly done this. There are plenty of historical examples of the Catholic hierarchy employing the force of the state to advance the cause of their religion. The problem with this focus is that it blinds us to the applications of the warning against coercion in religion to ourselves.

Even when we were a tiny sect with no political power, we still in our institutions, especially in our schools, used too much force, too much authority and threat. We thought we could force younger generations to embrace a pure religion by creating an environment that was strict enough, stern enough, to corral their youthful passions.

In doing this we were unwittingly coming close to the very evil impulses warned against in Revelation 13. Now, we have much more power, so we ought to be asking how the principles in these prophecies apply to us. Are we being seduced by the appeal and promise of power?

Let me be crystal clear about a misuse of prophecy. Prophecy gives us no useful information about the calendar of the end of time. No one has ever used their understanding of where we are on the grand time line of prophetic events to provide wisdom for living. Everyone who makes a decision based on some theory of end time events will end up regretting the decision.

If you don't go to grad school because the world is going to end before you can put that education to work, you're going to regret it.

If you build a house or a church or a school based on the notion it won't need to last long because Jesus is coming soon, you or your children are going to regret it.

If you fail to plan for retirement, if you fail to save for your kids college education, if you fail to exercise because you know Jesus is coming so soon you'll never benefit from that kind of advance planning, you're going to live to regret it or you're going to die young.

Prophecy is useless as a guide to calendar-based planning. Prophecy is a rich blessing when we use it rightly: To assure us no matter what happens, God wins. And, secondly, to give us wisdom in the application of spiritual principles in the real world.

Question Number Three

Vitamin A has been introduced into rice. This also is very helpful. It is helpful, passive, easy. A fossil religion is easy, does not take wrestling. How do we make our religion alive, vibrant and one that meets God's purpose in our lives, meets ours and other's needs?

To refresh your memory, I told the story of Dr. Maria Isabel Andrade who changed the farming and eating culture of Mozambique. She got the people there to grow and eat a different kind of sweet potato that provided Vitamin A. Across that region of Africa Vitamin A deficiency had been causing kids to die. Her work led to a markedly improved quality of life.

I think of religion as a culture. In church we create a culture that encourages us embrace wise habits. This helps children and all of us to live better. Our religious culture creates positive social pressure for us to take in the “vitamins” of church attendance, Sabbath-keeping, Bible-reading, exercise, healthy eating, carefulness in entertainment, the practice of systematic generosity, rejection of drugs.

I argued that every generation needs to rethink how to embody spirituality in a culture that works, a culture that helps people connect with God and thrive in the world they live in.

Wayne's question is one of the most profound questions we can ask: How do we make our religion alive, vibrant and one that meets God's purpose in our lives, meets ours and other's needs?

This question points in two directions: How do we avoid a mere fossil religion, one comprised of ancient forms disconnected from our world? How do we create a vital religion that reaches forward and creates new forms and alters old forms so it actively supports authentic, live-giving spirituality?

I am reminded of a question posed to Jesus:

One of the teachers of religious law was standing there listening to the debate. He realized that Jesus had answered well, so he asked, "Of all the commandments, which is the most important?"

Jesus replied, "The most important commandment is this: 'Listen, O Israel! The LORD our God is the one and only LORD. And you must love the LORD your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind, and all your strength.' The second is equally important: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' [fn] No other commandment is greater than these."

The teacher of religious law replied, "Well said, Teacher. You have spoken the truth by saying that there is only one God and no other. And I know it is important to love him with all my heart and all my understanding and all my strength, and to love my neighbor as myself. This is more important than to offer all of the burnt offerings and sacrifices required in the law."

Realizing how much the man understood, Jesus said to him, "You are not far from the Kingdom of God." And after that, no one dared to ask him any more questions. Mark 12:28-34

The grand central theme of religion and spirituality is our connection with God. The purpose of religion is to help us love God more fully, to love God with our hearts—with our emotions, our guts, our imaginations. With our souls—our wills, our loyalties—our minds. With our brains, our cognitive functionality, our reason, our theology. With our strength—our money, our muscle, our status, our beauty, our votes. This is the heart of religion. Going to church, reading the Bible, praying, keeping Sabbath—all of this is supposed to help us love God. We test every religious practice by asking the question does this help me to love God? Does it help my friends to love God? Does it help my kids to love God? (Some people use the Bible in ways that cause their children and acquaintances to dislike God. This is strong evidence that their religion is broken.)

Love for God is not the last word, however. There is a second word, a second command. It is actually as important, as crucial, and perhaps even more diagnostic than the first: Love your neighbor as yourself.

This is a very stern test of our religion. Does our religion prompt us to love others—Mexicans and Sikhs, Muslims and Catholics, Republicans and Democrats, Libertarians and Socialists—as ourselves? Not that we agree equally with every idea that comes along. We don't. The religion of Jesus requires us to love persons whose ideas we disagree with. The religion of Jesus requires us to give up hatred and condemnation.

According to Jesus we have to love people who believe rape victims are magically protected from pregnancy and people who believe that gay people should be allowed to marry. We have to love children who have been abused and monsters who have abused children.

The essence of a vital, alive religion is a commitment to loving God and loving people. Notice, Jesus does not mention any of the forms of religion. He doesn't mention going to church. He doesn't mention any particular theory of salvation. He doesn't talk about Sabbath-keeping or prophetic theories. He doesn't name any of the particular rules that we list in our beliefs. He names none of the cultural expressions of genuine spirituality.

Instead he gives us the grand, central principles which test all else.

In his own life, Jesus embraced the particularities of Jewish life. He went to church. He ate kosher. He had a practice of intense prayer. He memorized the words of the Bible. Jesus was not “merely spiritual.” He was also religious.

As a church, we are to be both spiritual and religious. We have the challenge and opportunity to create and pass on doctrines and practices that help us live out these two great commandments.

But when we come back to Wayne's question: How do we make our religion alive, vibrant and one that meets God's purpose in our lives, meets ours and other's needs? The answer is we evaluate everything we believe and do in the light of these two great commandments. We reject religious practices that no longer help us love God and our neighbor. We embrace new practices that work in our culture to cultivate love for God and love for our neighbor.

These commandments do not make everything simple and clear. They are, however, the unquestionable touchstones. They remain the final authority.

Asking how our religious practices help us live out these commandments is the first and perennially relevant question.

New Buckets, Part Two

Sermon for North Hill Adventist Fellowship, August 18, 2012

I heard a fascinating piece on NPR this week. Some years ago health organizations made a surprising discovery. They had been working to improve life for malnourished children. Everyone assumed the problem was simply not enough calories. So aid organizations had been working to provide rice or corn. This extra food helped. But then someone did an experiment. They gave kids a vitamin A supplement. It cut the mortality rate by 25 percent! This was a wonderful discovery but it posed a huge problem: how do you distribute vitamin pills to the tens of thousands of villages across rural Africa?

Then someone had a bright idea; What if we can get farmers to grow crops that will provide the vitamins? That way the people will not be dependent on aid organizations. There was initial skepticism. Was it really possible to get people to change their food culture? Changing the farming and eating culture would be by far the most effective way to improve the well-being of the people. But it also seemed to be an impossible goal.

A researcher named Maria Isabel Andrade took on the challenge. Farmers in Africa have been growing sweet potatoes for over 200 years. But the sweet potatoes they have been growing are white or yellow inside and they don't provide vitamin A. However, the orange variety common in North America does.

Dr. Andrade began researching varieties of the dark orange sweet potato that would grow well in Africa. In 1997 she began distributing the dark orange sweet potatoes to farmers in Mozambique. She launched a major advertising campaign promoting the advantages of the orange sweet potato. It caught on. Farmers began marketing their dark orange sweet potatoes as more nutritious. They could actually sell them for a higher price than the white or yellow varieties. Now over a third of the sweet potatoes grown in Mozambique are of the dark orange variety. The culture is changing. People are eating better. The blood levels of vitamin A in kids has gone up measurably. Life is better.

Changing eating culture is very difficult. But it can be done, and when done wisely, it results in a better life. Religion is the cultural expression of spirituality. Religion is the outward, social form of the values and beliefs that live in our souls.

A couple of weeks ago, I talked about religion and spirituality. I compared religion to a berry-picking bucket and spirituality to the treasure of berries that we put in our bucket. Obviously, the most important thing is the treasure in the bucket, not the bucket itself. On other hand, there is no way to gather enough berries to share or enough to freeze for Thanksgiving pies without using some kind of bucket.

Sometimes in religion, we get so attached to our traditions and forms, to doing things the way we have always done them, to doing things the way we did them when we were young, that we damage the treasure of spiritual life for our kids. We insist that the only way to be genuinely spiritual is to be religious like we are.

We sometimes think the best religion is one that doesn't change. I strongly disagree. A changeless religion is like a fossil—a dead relic of something that was once alive. If it never changes it is no longer alive. What is the value of a dead religion, a fossilized religion? You could put it in a museum, but it doesn't offer much for life.

Vital spiritual life always is expressed and reinforced through external forms—that is through religion. We can't really be “spiritual but no religious” at least not over the long haul. And for sure, we cannot pass on to our children and grandchildren a vibrant spiritual life that is disconnected from concrete traditions and habits. Trying to escape religion is a fools dream. On the other hand, healthy, wholesome religion will change over time. If we do a good job, our children's religion will be similar to ours, but it will not be identical.

Once we accept the fact that a healthy religion will change, we immediately face the question: What kind of change is good? What kind of change is bad? When we examine our own religion, how do we figure out what is worth preserving and what needs to be updated?

Jesus addressed this issue head on.

Sabbath keeping was the centerpiece of Jewish religious life. It was the most distinctive, universal practice. It was enshrined in the heart of the Ten Commandments. The Sabbath was so important, the rabbis had come up with hundreds of rules detailing proper Sabbath-keeping. As I often remark, it's vital for us to understand these rules were developed out of a devout, thoughtful commitment to honoring the command of God. The people who came up with these rules and passed them on from generation to generation were good people, holy people.

Then Jesus comes along and blatantly ignores some of those long standing Sabbath rules. People were flabbergasted. How dare he ignore the historic rules? Jesus explanation of his behavior expressed a principle that can be applied across the board.

Then Jesus said to them, "The Sabbath was made to meet the needs of people, and not people to meet the requirements of the Sabbath. So the Son of Man is Lord, even over the Sabbath!" Mark 2:27-28.

The purpose of religion is to meet the needs of people. God did not invent religion as a way for people to meet his needs. So when we find religion damaging people it's time to change it.

When we find religion helping people, we want to preserve it and strengthen it. When we find some element of our religion damaging people, it is our duty to change it.

What elements of Adventist religion are demonstrably helpful? What historic rules should be kept? What historic rules should be abandoned or modified? What beliefs are good? What beliefs are better jettisoned?

Smoking

Let's start with an easy one: The Adventist rule against smoking. Years ago I was studying some scientific literature on smoking cessation. What factors in a person's life were predictive of success in quitting smoking? This particular study observed that the best way to increase your odds of successfully quitting was to join the Mormon or Adventist Church. The church rules against smoking created such strong social pressure that people who joined those churches and quit smoking were most likely to be successful long term.

The value of the church rule against smoking is the assistance it gives people in achieving their own goal of non-smoking. Of course, some Adventists smoke. When one of our members is struggling with smoking, we don't scold them. We don't condemn them. We feel sorry for them. We love them. We pity them because of the power of the addiction. One thing we don't do is soften our rule. The Adventist rule is: No smoking. That is the norm in our community. And it works. Fewer Adventists smoke than people in the general public. Fewer Adventist kids smoke than is typical of American kids over all.

The rule, Don't Smoke!, is built on fundamental spiritual principles. Our bodies are the creation of God, so habits that wreck our bodies are an affront to God. The centerpiece of Jesus' public life was the ministry of healing. Smoking contradicts that high regard for human health. As followers of Jesus, we have special regard for the vulnerable, the weak, the feeble. We might be able to smoke moderately like a friend of mine back in New York City. She enjoyed four or five cigarettes a year. That amount of smoking would not hurt you. But, of course, the vast majority of people find that any smoking leads quickly to lung- and heart-destroying addiction. Our concern for the large number of people who are at significant risk of cigarette addiction prompts us to absolutely outlaw smoking.

And it works. Most Adventists don't smoke. Most people who join the church quit and never smoke again. For a few people quitting takes a really long time. One of my Adventist friends battled cigarette addiction off and on for forty years before he finally achieved long-term freedom. Another friend escaped a horrible addiction to street drugs. He joined the church, but was still seriously addicted to

cigarettes. It took another ten years after he joined the church to escape the tobacco addiction. But freedom did come. And, in part, it came because of the pressure created by rules of the church. His congregation loved him. He was not ostracized or criticized or scolded. Still he felt the pressure of our religion's public, emphatic insistence that smoking is evil.

This is part of our religion I definitely hope my children and grandchildren will continue. Smoking is declining among educated, wealthy Americans. But the poor, the under-educated and people of color are still being ravaged by the cigarette industry. In places like China and Africa smoking is still spreading like wildfire. Our church is a global community, a community that includes those who are well-off financially and those who are poor, Americans and Africans, Germans and Chinese. This global community is best served by a religion that strongly resists the allure of tobacco addiction.

Our principles of care for creation and commitment to the ministry of Jesus call for a religious rule against smoking. I hope our children will agree.

Alcohol

Our prohibition on alcohol is more controversial in some circles. Why? First there is some evidence that a very low level of regular wine drinking might actually be helpful for our hearts. Second, quite apart from the putative cardiac benefit of minimal, regular wine usage, there is the argument that a little bit of alcohol doesn't do enough damage to worry about. Third, the Bible explicitly allows for drinking alcohol, just as it allows for polygamy and slavery. Or to put the other way around, there is no Bible prohibition on moderate use of alcohol.

So, should we modify our religious rule against drinking?

I argue that even if the above arguments are correct, our religious rejection of alcohol is still helpful for humanity over all. Why?

Alcohol causes about 80,000 deaths and costs $250 billion deaths a year in the US (See CDC web site). Much of that $250 billion is borne by tax payers and paying health care customers. Alcohol abuse is a major societal problem. While it is theoretically possible to use alcohol in ways that are safe, practically it poses a serious threat to human well-being. It is by far the most expensive drug problem in the world. Something that expensive and damaging deserves a thoughtful, conscience-guided response from religion. Binge drinking is a huge problem on college campuses all over the country. It happens even among Adventist students. But the number of kids involved at Adventist schools is a fraction of what it is elsewhere. The Adventist taboo on alcohol helps to protect Adventist kids from this plague. We include Natives in our church family. Their genetics means even the slightest exposure to alcohol is horribly risky. We do not condemn Natives who get caught in the trap of alcohol, but we publicly work to create a culture where it is okay NOT to drink. Being a man, being an adult, being cool—none of these things has anything to do with drinking.

The Adventist religious rule against alcohol helps protect our Native members. It helps protect our college students. It helps protect the large number of people who carry an unknown level of risk of alcoholism and alcohol abuse. This bucket—the rule against recreational alcohol consumption—contributes contributes to human well-being.

Sabbath-keeping

This bucket, this aid to human well-being, is irreplaceable. If Sabbath as a whole day of respite from the demands of commerce and achievement ever disappears from a community, it would be almost impossible to regain its blessings. We can observe this in most Christian churches. Over the last thirty years most churches have recognized that “Sunday-keeping” has no basis in Scripture. Preachers have no warrant for urging their people to protect Sunday as holy time. So, most American Christians no longer keep Sunday. Which means, of course, that they keep no day. Their lives have no dedicated day to the cultivation of spiritual, family and social life. Americans live under a tyranny of unrelenting pressure. Soccer practice. Long hours at work. Long hours working on work even while away from the office.

Sabbath is so precious it is worth great effort to preserve its role as sacred open space in our lives.

Some of our historic Sabbath practices need to be changed. The notion that children playing on Sabbath is a violation of Sabbath sacredness is wrong. The Bible does not prohibit play on Sabbath.

Some of our women need to give up the notion that Sabbath dinner needs to be some version of Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner. I remember that shock I experienced as a kid when I went to my Aunt Louise's house after church and she fed me and my cousins peanut butter sandwiches and fruit for Sabbath lunch. It was a complete violation of our family's Sabbath habits. One other thing I noticed: lunch took minutes to prepare and minutes to clean up after. The entire house was more relaxed.

In today's world where nearly every one is working full time, we need to change our idea of meals together so that focus is on “together” instead of the meal. Or we need to make meal preparation itself a community affair. So that people come together and prepare a meal instead of having the designated hostess have everything ready for the guests.

Some of our historic rules need to be reinforced. In our world where everything works 24/7 we need to push back against the creep of “necessary work.” It is true that far more than “medical work” must be done on Sabbath. Police and fire, transportation and electricity, for example, must be sustained 24/7—and that includes Sabbath. We cannot logically prohibit our members from providing services which we ourselves use on Sabbath. Still, especially in liberal congregations, we need to strategize toward protecting Sabbath from the overwhelming pressure of “necessary work.” We must work to protect its sacredness, its openness.

All rules for Sabbath keeping are a bit arbitrary. Still there is decided value in having some clear limits to our engagement with “ordinary stuff” on Sabbath. (See other sermons where I have developed this idea at length.)

Adventists and Prophecy

This is an area where we need significant change. The historic Adventist approach to prophecy led our members to focus on bad news. We often believe things are worse than they actually are. Our prophetic convictions actually increase our fear and anxiety. This is not good.

When Adventists send me emails about the state of the world or post things on facebook. They almost always post bad news or bad speculations. Just this week someone posted on my facebook page a link to an article about the imminent collapse of the American economy.

I couldn't help laughing when I read it. Over the last 30 years I have seen many such predictions. Global meltdown in the next six months or the next year. David Gates, the famous Adventist missionary issued such a warning three or four years ago. Famous Adventist evangelists specialize in this kind of dramatic predictions.

No nation, no empire stands forever. The US will not always be at the top of the dog pile of nations. But after thirty years of doomsday predictions that have failed, I think we would do much better to largely ignore them.

If you want to pay attention to threats, give your attention to threats that have a high likelihood of touching you and your children. Obesity is a far greater threat to our children than chemicals in our soil or Iraqi weapons of mass destruction (which, of course, did not exist!) So get your kids outside and moving. Which, of course, means you need to get outside and move. :-)

The historic Adventist notion of a “final, perfect generation” is deleterious to long term spiritual health. Young people find this idea exciting. It fills them with holy ambition to prepare themselves to be part of special group of people. But then by the time you term fifty or sixty, you realize you aren't going to make it. You are not going to triumph over every “hereditary and cultivated tendency to evil.” So, if participation in God's plan for the end requires a perfect character, you aren't going to make it.

Repeatedly, I have talked with older Adventists whose spiritual life is clouded with the inescapable realization that they are not going to be part of the movement they spent their entire lives preparing for and praying for. Because they realize that after decades of trying (praying, surrendering, trusting—use any expression here you want) . . . after decades of dreaming of being part of that final PERFECT generation, they recognize it isn't going to happen.

We need to get rid of this idea. It damages the sweetest, purest, most sincere believers. God is not waiting for a “perfect generation.” You do not have the ability to throw a kink in God's global plan. You do not need to achieve some higher level of perfection for God to be able to use you as an agent of the Kingdom of Heaven.

Instead of talking of some theoretical “final perfect generation,” give your attention to the perpetual call to holiness. (God does not ask anything from the “final generation” that he does not ask from every generation.) Cultivate holiness through positive spiritual disciplines like Sabbath-keeping, Bible reading, prayer, meditation, listening to sweet music, sharing fellowship with other believers, going to church, contemplating beauty. Protect holiness through the negative disciplines of fasting, abstaining from hate-mongers and fear-mongers. (To be specific—most talk radio, some preaching, some Bible study.)

Fundamental Principles

There are Bible passages that can function as declarations of basic principles. These principles offer wise, reliable guidance as we assess our religion. Here are my favorites:

Micah 6:8. He has showed you O Man what is good. And what does the Lord require of you, but to do justice and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.

Matthew 5-7. Everything from “Blessed are the spiritually bankrupt, because even they have a place in the kingdom of heaven” to “Hating is not allowed” to “Be perfect as your father in heave is perfect” (with perfection defined as profligate generosity) to “Don't worry” to “Doing matters far more than believing or liking (in the facebook sense). In chapter 5, especially, Jesus emphatically rejects the notion that the explicit language of Bible rules is the last word. Instead he points to high ideals that lie beyond any possible rule.

Luke 10:25-37. Love God. Love your neighbor. Who is your neighbor? The person to whom you can render aid.

All religion, our practices and beliefs, prophecy and behavioral standards, our administrative structures and practices, everything can be evaluated in the light of these passages.

We can trust the next generation to do their own shaping of religion in the light of these principles. We can trust God and our children with the future. Our calling, our mission, is to form a church culture where the truths enunciated in these passages become the test of all of our own practices and beliefs. As we do that, we are fulfilling our God-given mission. It will be enough.

Submission?

Submission? A Reaction to Recent Statements by President Wilson II

(Revised from a posting two days ago.)

Occasionally, I come across accusations that there are Jesuits at the General Conference. I am alternately amused by the silliness of these charges and saddened by the spiritual sickness they evince. Then I read President Ted Wilson's (President Wilson II) repeated calls for submission to the authority of the church, and I recognize a theme that has characterized Catholic spirituality for a thousand years.

Anyone who has known President Wilson II for decades finds accusations that he is a closet Jesuit so preposterous it's difficult to give a coherent response. On the other hand, he is following a trajectory described by his father in the Merikay case of movement away from anti-hierarchicalism toward a form of church governance reminiscent of the papacy. A primary reason for this movement is its effectiveness. If your objective is a global, coherent, long-lasting organization, the papacy is by far the most compelling exemplar. President Wilson II's commitment to the Adventist ideal of the remnant—not merely as a spiritual movement but as a recognizable, ordered church—requires the imposition of a discipline that can only be achieved through an authoritative hierarchy.

When Wilson urges people to submit to the church, by “church” he means the top clergy, more specifically he means the General Conference Executive Committee.* President Wilson II acknowledges people may have sincere, individual differences of conviction regarding women's ordination. They may believe their respective views are supported by the Bible. Still, he insists, they must subordinate their individual consciences to the decisions of the church (i.e. the GC Executive Committee which Wilson dominates). This is another baby step toward the establishment of an Adventist papacy. Two hundred years from now historians will be writing about the efforts (successful or unsuccessful) of Wilson II to secure the unchallenged primacy of the Bishop of Columbia in the hierarchy of the Seventh-day Adventist Church (a.k.a. American Universal (catholic) Church).

The teaching of submission as a virtue has a long and venerable history in Judaism and Christianity. Passages in the Bible advocate submission. Certainly, we are warned about the folly we can get into when we reject wisdom from outside ourselves. However, the great heroes of the Bible were not mildly submissive.

Abraham directly challenged God's announced plans for Sodom. Moses twice flatly rejected God's stated judgment on Israel. The Syro-Phonecian woman blithely dismissed Jesus' explicit statement that she was asking him to operate outside God's template for his ministry. In each of these cases, God bent to the will of his challengers.

Jesus repeatedly rejected the authority of the church of his day. He gently chided Peter for acquiescing to the Jewish leaders' claims of authority over Jesus in the matter of paying the temple tax. (This would be the equivalent of messing with tithe policy in the Adventist Church.)

The great revivals in Israel were led not by the high priest but by the kings--Hezekiah, Josiah, Jehoshaphat. On the other hand, Elijah and Elisha modeled principled, sustained opposition to the authority of King Ahab. The high priest Azariah with eighty of his fellow priests confronted King Uzziah when he overstepped his prerogatives and went into the temple to offer a sacrifice. In Israel God never consolidated authority into a single person or institution. The monarchy and the priesthood each traced its roots back to an independent inauguration by God. Neither was the "final word." Then there were the prophets--wild cards in the authority structure of Israel. Their role is filled in our day by bold preachers of the left and right who call for the radical application of principles that are deeply rooted in our heritage.  

Ellen White celebrates the intervention of Frederick of Saxony to protect Luther from the authority of the church of his day. She repeatedly delights in the refusal of the reformers to submit to formally constituted church authority.

When President Wilson II orders people in the church to submit, he is voicing his sincere convictions about what people ought to do. He is fulfilling his divine mandate as he understands it. He is seeking to defend the institution of the church. This is the normal (and I would argue, appropriate) role for a church bureaucrat. Reformers ought to respect the sincerity of President Wilson's convictions.

On the other hand, reformers—other church bureaucrats, pastors, laity—who oppose President Wilson II, are also acting out of sincere conviction. Their commitment to God and justice requires them to exercise all available means compatible with integrity to shape the church according to the vision God has given them.

The Bible offers no tidy formula for resolving this conflict. Passages can be cited in support of both institutional primacy and prophetic (individual) primacy. Frequently in the Bible the formal structure of religion is shown to be opposed to the will of God as voiced by minorities and individuals. Other times dissident individuals are portrayed as mere rebels.

I look for the bottom line by measuring ideas and practices with the yardsticks of the Two Great Commandments and Micah 6:8. Neither mentions institutional conformity as a primary virtue.

*Wilson writes: “The General Conference Executive Committee, the highest deliberative authority of the worldwide church between General Conference Sessions, includes nearly 120 union conference and union mission presidents as voting delegates, along with elected officers, departmental directors, pastors, frontline employees and numerous laypersons.” The inclusion of "laypersons" in this list is disingenuous. This committee is dominated by clergy, primarily the higher ranking clergy. 

New Buckets

Sermon for North Hill Adventist Fellowship

Sabbath, August 4, 2012

Texts: Matthew 9:17, Mark 2:22, Luke 5:37

Berry season lasts most of the summer at our house. Strawberries, then raspberries. Now, it's blueberries. In a few weeks it will be blackberry season.

To pick berries and pop them in my mouth requires no equipment, no container. But the minute I dream of sharing berries or putting some in the freezer, I must have a container. And, since my goal every year is to put 50 quarts of blackberries in the freezer, I give a lot of thought to containers. For several years I tried different bowls and kettles. Then I discovered the perfect container for picking. It's a blue enameled camp kettle with brackets on each side to which I can attach a strap that I sling over my shoulder. Using this bucket I have both hands free and I have complete freedom of movement.

The treasure is the berries. I'm not out there picking berries for the pleasure of carrying around my blue enamel kettle. I'm out there for the treasure hiding among the thorns of the blackberry canes. Still, the container is absolutely indispensable. And the right container is much better than all the others I have tried.

The proper container is rigid enough to protect the berries from crushing as I work around the vines. The strap allows me to forget the kettle while I'm picking and give full attention to the berries. The container to be small enough not to get in the way and large enough so I don't waste too much time transferring berries from my picking container to the large holding bowl. The treasure is the berries. But the bucket matters.

Curiously, even though I find my blue enamel kettle with its strap the perfect container for berries, my daughter uses something completely different. Her container has no strap. And it is definitely not a blue enamel kettle. What's even more curious is that in spite of the fact that I have not been able to persuade my daughter that a bucket with a strap is the best way to go, she picks faster than I do.

Religion is the bucket for spirituality. The bucket matters. What's in the bucket matters even more. Sometimes a new generation discovers a container that works better than dad's bucket, at least in their hands.

Recently I was visiting with a young man who grew up in the church. He attended Adventist schools. He went to Sabbath School and church every week. He participated in Pathfinders (the Adventist version of Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts). Then after he got out of college he discovered he could do quite well without church. He had a woman in his life he loved. He had a job that was interesting. He was healthy. He didn't believe everything he heard in the church of his childhood. But now he was thinking about having kids. He found himself wondering just what values, beliefs and practices from his childhood he still believed in. What did he want to pass on to his kids?

Flat out rejection of everything in the religion of his childhood would be silly. On the other hand he could not imagine himself simply stepping back into the old traditions, lock, stock and barrel. He wanted to keep what was true, beautiful, and helpful. He wanted to jettison anything that was faulty or out of date or counterproductive.

Our conversation got me thinking. Of all the traditions the church has embraced over the last 150-plus years which ones do we keep? Which ones do we modify? Which ones do we jettison?

Some people imagine that true religion should be changeless. Let's just do it the way Jesus and the disciples did. But Jesus himself emphatically rejected the notion of a changeless religion.

Consider this:

Once when John's disciples and the Pharisees were fasting, some people came to Jesus and asked, "Why don't your disciples fast like John's disciples and the Pharisees do? Jesus replied, "Do wedding guests fast while celebrating with the groom? Of course not. They can't fast while the groom is with them. But someday the groom will be taken away from them, and then they will fast. "Besides, who would patch old clothing with new cloth? For the new patch would shrink and rip away from the old cloth, leaving an even bigger tear than before. "And no one puts new wine into old wineskins. For the wine would burst the wineskins, and the wine and the skins would both be lost. New wine calls for new wineskins." Mark 2:18-22. (The same story is told in Matthew 9:14-17 and Luke 5:33-39.).

People observed Jesus' disciples violating some of the standard rules for devout religious living. Jewish religious practice had been worked out by rabbis over hundreds of years of intense Bible study and prayer. These practices were intended to help people keep in mind God's holiness and their special relationship with him. The goal of the rabbis was to ensure the people never again fell into the evil ways that had led to the destruction of Jerusalem and the banishment of the Jewish people to Babylong. The rabbis aimed to help live pure lives and obey all God's laws to the letter, so life would go well with them.

It is vital to understand that the traditions the disciples were ignoring had been designed to serve a high and noble purpose. The disciples' casual disregard for ancient habits was scandalous. The critics, the advocates of “high standards,” could not understand how someone like Jesus would tolerate such flippant disregard of holy tradition. One of the specific traditions ignored by the disciples was systematic fasting. What they were doing would be like a Muslim eating lunch during Ramadan or an Adventist bringing steak to potluck. To the critics it appeared to be crass secularization.

Jesus' answer to the critics: People at a wedding reception don't fast. They party. Fasting comes later.

Jesus blithely dismisses a couple hundred years of tradition by saying it didn't fit the present situation. Jesus agreed that fasting had a place in spiritual life, then blithely dismissed as inappropriate NOW. Jesus emphatically, unequivocally declares that religious practice, at least the one in question, was not eternal, it is situation dependent. Sometimes people should fast and sometimes people should feast. Life as Jesus lived it and taught it, included both fasting and feasting. Praying and partying.

Taking this as an example of a general principle, we should expect the ideal forms of religion to change over time. “Changelessness” is not a Christian virtue. It is rather a symptom of death.

Recently someone asked about my views regarding a particular religious practice. They observed a trend among Adventist young adults that troubled them, then said, “That's not the way we did it when I was young.” My response (in my head, not out loud) was, “What's that got to do with anything?” Then I repented—but only slightly. :-)

The fact that the church used to prescribe or proscribe a particular behavior is interesting information. It is not an authoritative guide to what we should be doing now. Religious traditions usually get started for very good reasons. So discarding tradition is not something to be done lightly. But sometimes change is the only smart and holy choice.

Catholics got caught in the rut of doing church in Latin. When they began using Latin, it was an innovation. They were moving from Greek—a language understood by fewer and fewer people—to the “English” of its day, the language most widely spoken. A thousand years later when no one spoke Latin except the intelligentsia, the church was still stuck using Latin. Most of the people understood not a word that was said.

Adventists got stuck reading the King James Version of the Bible and using quaint, out-of-date language in prayer.

Both Latin and “King James English” became the languages of worship for good reasons. And both were eventually replaced with something more modern—again for very good reason. Good religion, religion that genuinely connects people and God, will change over time. That's what Jesus taught. It's what he modeled. Changeless religion is a fossil, interesting to look at but dead.

Since we are followers of Jesus, we should expect that our religion—the forms and traditions, the doctrines and practices that express and nourish our spiritual life—will change with time and situation.

This is the plain meaning of Jesus' words about fasting and feasting.

Now to Jesus' words about wine and wineskins:

No one puts new wine into old wineskins. For the wine would burst the wineskins, and the wine and the skins would both be lost. New wine calls for new wineskins.

Jesus compares spiritual life to a liquid. He warns against the foolishness of trying to confine the vibrant life of the Spirit in the brittle structures of ancient tradition. When there is a vital surge of spiritual life, it will break established forms, always. We cannot confine the present work of the Spirit in the “ways we have always done it before.”

Just as surely, you cannot have a vital spiritual life without the sturdy forms of religion. New wine skins are flexible, but they tough and strong. Jesus does not argue for a formless, featureless spirituality. Jesus would laugh at people who say, “I'm spiritual, but not religious.” That is plainly impossible.

Religion is the form spiritual life takes. And religion is the container in which spirituality lives. We cannot dispense with religion. We can embrace healthier, more effective forms of religion. We can engage in religious practices that promote happiness, health, congenial relationships, service, stewardship of the earth, gratitude, responsibility, sweet relationships at home. Or we can embrace forms that erode and cripple the spirit. The choice is ours.

Spirituality is amorphous, fluid, volatile. For it to be effective in our lives, it must be contained, channeled. This becomes especially obvious when you think of communicating spirituality to children. You cannot teach little ones grand, abstract theology. Instead you teach them Bible stories. You tell them the story of the Prodigal Son and the Lost Sheep. We recite the story of the Good Samaritan and the Sheep and Goats. We teach children to say grace before we try to explain understand the concept of gratitude. We teach the do's and don't's of Sabbath-keeping before kids could possibly understand the value of rest and rhythm in life. We structure children's eating habits before they have any idea what the word “health” means. These structures, habits and practices are the essence of religion.

So my young friend's quest to figure out what he still believes, what traditions and practices from his childhood to retain and which to let go, and maybe what new traditions to create—this quest is right on. It is the wisest, best approach to religion for young adults. Don't dump the religion of your childhood. Don't copy it. Use it as a springboard for fashioning afresh a lively, effective religious life that will nourish your own spirituality and will shape and sustain your children as they grow.

Your children need you to fashion supple, tough wineskins to hold the precious life of the Spirit. Your children need you to take your blue enamel bucket with the strap or the Tupperware bowl or whatever container works and go gather a treasure of berries. Gather enough for now and enough for Thanksgiving pies and enough for cobbler next April.

The treasure in the bucket is worth finding the very best bucket. Your kids and your friends deserve the treasure you will gather.

Final note (for people at church and readers on the web): I invite you to submit lists of practices and beliefs that you have found helpful or detrimental. Or if a list doesn't work, send me your stories of how religion has helped or harmed you.

Notes toward a sermon

Below are some preliminary notes for my sermon on August 4, 2012. Criticism is most welcome. The title, "New Buckets" is from an illustration that may or may not actually make it into the sermon. It is based on the need for appropriate containers when berry picking. Different kinds of berries require different containers if you're going to protect the fruit. Different people prefer different styles of buckets. But if you are going to gather enough berries to share or to save, you must use a container of some kind. 

Jesus talked about wine skins instead of buckets.

New Buckets

Texts: Matthew 9:17, Mark 2:22, Luke 5:37

Recently I was visiting with a young man who grew up in the church. He attended Adventist schools. He went to Sabbath School and church every week. He participated in Pathfinders (the Adventist version of Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts). Then after he got out of college he discovered he could do quite well without church. He had a woman in his life he loved. He had a job that was interesting. He was healthy. He didn't believe everything he heard in the church of his childhood. But now he was thinking about having kids. He found himself wondering just what values, beliefs and practices from his childhood he still believed in. What did he want to pass on to his kids?

Flat out rejection of everything in the religion of his childhood would be silly. On the other he could not imagine himself simply stepping back into the old traditions, lock, stock and barrel. He wanted to keep what was true, beautiful, and helpful. He wanted to jettison anything that was faulty or out of date or counterproductive.

Our conversation got me thinking. I'd like to invite you to think with me. Over the next couple of months, I'd like you to join me in addressing the question he so eloquently raised: Of all the traditions the church has embraced over the last 150 plus years which ones do we keep? Which ones do we modify? Which ones do we jettison?

Our starting point will be a conversation Jesus had with some of his critics. People observed that his disciples were breaking some of the rules for devout religious living. Rabbis had developed all sorts of habits to help people keep in mind God's holiness and their special relationship with him. The goal of these rabbis was to help people live pure lives, reminded of God's claim on them in every activity.

It is vital for to understand that these practices that the disciples were ignoring had been designed to serve a high and noble purpose.

The critics saw the disciples blithely ignoring ancient habits and they were scandalized. How could Jesus possibly tolerate such flippant disregard of holy tradition? One of the specific traditions ignored by the disciples was systematic fasting. It would be like a Muslim eating lunch during Ramadan or an Adventist bringing steak to potluck. It was scandalous.

Jesus' answer: People at a wedding reception don't fast. They party. Fasting comes later. Then Jesus added this cryptic remark: You don't put new wine in old, brittle wine skins. The old skins are likely to break. Instead you put new wine in flexible new skins.

Jesus compares spiritual life to a liquid. A container is absolutely essential. But containers get old and need to be changed.

Religion—the formal statements of our creed, the specific practices that help us remember and celebrate God's grace, the rules that we formulate to express how to live a godly life in our specific life setting—these things are essential for a healthy spiritual life. And all these things are subject to change over time.

The answer to the question raised by my friend, Jack, is not obvious. It is not easy. Good life, wise life requires us to answer it. Finding the best answer calls for prayer, thoughtfulness and careful listening to one another.

Jesus words affirming new wine skins and warning about the hazards of trying to confine vital spiritual life in old forms and traditions stands in stark contrast to those in Christianity and in Adventism who think the way of life is found in some mythical golden age in the past.

God calls us to continual reshape the forms of religion to make sure they are true to the Spirit of God and the needs of our own specific life situation. We should encourage every generation to reinvent the forms of religion trusting the same Spirit who has actuated us to guide them.